


Miles

by simpleandpure22



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-30 05:15:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8519902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simpleandpure22/pseuds/simpleandpure22
Summary: “Let me get this straight, you prefer to talk to a person who’s miles and miles away than your friend who’s right here?” Gerhard asks in a cold voice.Despite his guilt, Erik can’t help saying, “That person is my boyfriend.”“It doesn’t change the fact that he’s not here.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cafe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cafe/gifts).



> Für Elyse (see what I'm doing here? :D)
> 
> This was supposed to be a prompted drabble, but as you know me it ended up being a one shot. xD  
> It has been a while ago since I wrote Durmann, so I hope this doesn't turn out so bad. :)

The sound of his phone ringing is deafening, and irritating at the same time. Twice as worse that he’s inside the car. It’s Gerhard, and he’s been ringing for the past minute, but Erik just can’t bring himself to pick it up.

“Not now, Gerhard, sorry,” he murmurs, turning down the volume of his phone. He’ll call him later, but right now he’s not in the mood to talk to anyone. The calls finally stop, followed by two messages, but then there’s silence. At last.

Erik takes a deep, deep breath. He is supposed to be happy; today’s the day he joined the team training for the first time since his surgery, he should be over the moon. Well, he was… until Tuchel told him after training how things were looking at the moment.

“I’m not gonna beat around the bush, Erik. It will still take a while before I can put you back in the squad,” Tuchel said then, when the majority of players had left. Erik was used to his bluntness by now, as he was never the one to sugarcoat anything. Honesty is good—most of the time—but Erik wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what he said next.

“As for now, I’m happy with what we have and there’s no point in changing the team too much. And you should only focus on your recovery. We’re not going to risk anything.”

Erik let the words sink in. “You mean as for now the team doesn’t need me?” He tried not to sound bitter, but it must have shown in his voice.

Tuchel looked at him, his expression remained the same. “Yes. But it doesn’t mean things wouldn’t change in the future. It’s a long season, so keep working.” He lightly patted Erik’s shoulder and left.

Running a hand through his hair, Erik places his elbow on the door ledge. Gerhard doesn’t try to call again. Erik does feel bad for ignoring his friend, but at the moment he can’t be bothered to talk to anyone.

Actually, not everyone _. Jonas is fine._ He wants to talk to Jonas. No, in fact… he needs it.

He reaches for his phone and finds Jonas’ number. It goes straight to voicemail. Erik tries again, and then one more time, but it’s still the same. _God._ Is it a bad karma because he didn’t pick up Gerhard’s call? And now he deserves this. After trying for the third time, Erik gives up and leaves a message, telling Jonas to call him as soon as he can.

It looks like there’s nothing more he can do but go home. He takes another deep breath and starts the car. As he drives outside, he sees a few fans. Despite his low spirit, he can’t let these people down; maybe some of them have travelled far. He stops and opens his window, signing everything they give him. He only drives away after everyone got their turn.

The traffic is bad as usual, at this time of day. And it doesn’t improve his mood when he sees a car in front of his house. _Not now._ He sighs and climbs out of his car. Gerhard is in front of him in a second.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone? I was worried,” he says rapidly.

Erik looks at him. “Sorry. I was just… I didn’t feel like talking to anyone.”

Gerhard still looks displeased but says they should talk inside. Erik doesn’t have the energy to argue with him, so he merely nods and opens the front door.

“So what’s up?”

They’re in the kitchen. Erik reaches for a glass in the cupboard and fills it with water from the sink. “Can we talk about this later, Gerhard? I’m really not in the mood.” He takes a sip before placing the glass on the counter.

Erik has known Gerhard for a long time, and hoping that his friend is just going to let this go is a wishful thinking. “I can feel something is wrong, Erik. You can always talk to me, you know that.”

“I know and I appreciate that. I will tell you, I promise. But not now.”

Gerhard exhales soundly, hanging his head. “You can’t keep it all to yourself, it’s going to eat you up inside.”

“I was going to talk to—“ Erik starts and pauses as soon as he realises his mistake. But unfortunately Gerhard catches that.

“To whom?” he asks, his head snaps up.

“To Jonas,” Erik replies quietly, almost resembling a whisper.

Uncomfortable silence falls between them. Erik waits for Gerhard to say something, nervously twisting the hem of his shirt.

“Let me get this straight, you prefer to talk to a person who’s miles and miles away than your friend who’s right here?” Gerhard asks in a cold voice.

Despite his guilt, Erik can’t help saying, “That person is my boyfriend.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that he’s not here.”

Erik opens his mouth to say something, but he can think of… none. Because Gerhard is right. No matter how he phrases it, Jonas is not here. And he most likely won’t be here when Erik needs him. Not right now. Not tomorrow.

Probably seeing that what he said upsets Erik, Gerhard takes a step closer and puts his hand on Erik’s upper arm. “I’m not saying that Jonas is a bad person, Erik. I know he’s not. All I’m saying is, do you think it’s all worth it?” he says softly. “Don’t you think you deserve better than this?”

Erik doesn’t reply.

Gerhard sighs. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

“Please.”

“Okay,” he says kindly. “Call me later.” And he leaves the room. Erik can hear the sound of him closing the front door.

The water in the glass is now too warm for his liking. He pours the whole content into the sink and puts the glass in the dishwasher. It’s almost five o’clock, he probably should start making dinner. Anything will do. As he’s heating the water for the pasta, he thinks that it’s unbelievable how much his mood has dropped since he woke up.

This morning he was really excited to be back to training, and now he feels dejected—and alone. Maybe he shouldn’t ask Gerhard to leave. When the water is boiling, he drops the pasta in. Well, who is he kidding? It’s not Gerhard that he needs. It’s Jonas.

 _I’m only one call away,_ Jonas once told him.

Erik watches as the sauce bubbles in the saucepan. “No, Jonas,” he whispers. “You’re not.”

~*~

Jonas calls him around seven. When Erik sees his name on the screen, his heart beats a little faster. But at the same time, his throat tightens and it’s not a nice feeling.

“Hey, sorry to call you just now,” Jonas says, and the sound of his voice almost makes Erik smile. _Almost_. “The bus was a bit late. You know, Berlin traffic.”

By now Erik has remembered that Jonas is in Berlin, which must be why he didn’t pick up his phone earlier. But, that’s not the problem. “Yeah.”

“How was your day?” Jonas asks.

“…It was fine,” the words slip out of his lips even before he realises. It’s a straight up lie, and he doesn’t know why he didn’t tell Jonas the truth. Erik really wanted—needed—to talk to him earlier. So why this now?

There is a second of silence, and then Jonas asks, “Erik, what’s wrong? You sounded a bit frantic in your message. Are you all right?”

And that’s it. The concern in his voice is too much. Erik forces himself to breathe, but it’s as if he has forgotten how to breathe properly.

“Erik?” He hears Jonas ask again. “God, are you okay?”

“I need—you,” Erik bursts out in a broken murmur, his fingers clenching around the phone. Tears beginning to blur his vision, and to make it worse, his temples are throbbing painfully. “I really need you right now.”

He hears a rustling sound, which probably means that Jonas is moving. “I’m sorry,” Jonas says, sounding utterly sincere. “I wish I could be there but I—“ he pauses. “I’m sorry.”

“Today I came back to train with the others,” Erik says, ignoring his thumping headache.

“But that’s great,” Jonas cuts him off, before quickly adding, “Sorry… carry on.”

Erik closes his eyes. Maybe it will lessen the pain, as well as stopping the tears. “It went well, everything was fine. But then Tuchel came and pretty much told me I have lost my place in the team and there’s no guarantee he will put me in the squad anytime soon.” His voice is shaky, and there’s no way Jonas would miss that.

“God… Erik, I’m sorry,” Jonas murmurs. It seems that sorry is his favourite word today.

“I don’t know, Jonas. After being injured for so long and so often, all I want to do is play.”

“And you will,” Jonas tells him. “You’re a great player. Soon you’ll be able to fight for a place again, and not even Tuchel would be able to ignore how good you are.”

Erik opens his eyes and immediately regrets it. The lights feel too harsh, too bright. “But I don’t want to do this alone.” He reaches out and touches thin air. A cruel reminder that he is on his own. He brushes a tear that has rolled down his cheek _. I’m alone… I’m all alone, alone,_ the words keep repeating in his head like a distant echo.

“Hey, I’m with you, okay.” Jonas says. “Always.”

Any other day, it would be enough, and it would make Erik smile. But not today. “You’re not,” he says, shaking his head. The movement makes his head hurt even more so he stops. “You’re not here with me. And honestly, your apologies won’t make me feel any better.”

Jonas is quiet for some very long seconds. Erik starts to wonder if he shouldn’t say that but it’s too late, the damage is done. “Erik, I—” Jonas begins, but Erik doesn’t let him finish. He can’t handle another apology.

“I’m really tired. Can we talk tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Jonas says, after a moment. “Sure. Get some sleep.”

“Thanks.” And before Jonas has a chance to reply, Erik ends the call. He tosses his phone on the table and leans back on the sofa, burying his fingers in his hair. The drying track of tears on his cheeks feels uncomfortable; he’s itching to wash his face.

He just hung up on Jonas, something he never did before no matter how angry he was. “Not my finest hour,” he mumbles, wondering if Jonas will call again. Or maybe Gerhard. But his phone remains silent the whole evening, and Erik has no one else but himself to blame.

~*~

Jonas doesn’t call him the next two days. Once or twice Erik is so tempted to call him, but he stops himself at the very last second. He wouldn’t know what to say. When he comes back from Brackel on Saturday, he sees a car parked in front of his house. It’s already dark so he can’t see exactly which car it is.

Is it Gerhard again? Erik briefly talked to him yesterday, and he could feel that Gerhard hadn’t completely forgotten about their conversation two days ago. Who could have blamed him though? Erik was being unfair, and he was only trying to be a good friend.

As he drives closer, he can see that it’s not Gerhard’s car, yet it’s really familiar. Someone gets out of the car, making Erik’s heart skip a beat.

“Hey there,” Jonas says in a soft voice.

Instinctively Erik wants to pull him into a hug, but instead he frowns and says, “What are you doing here?”

“I want to talk to you.” Jonas blinks, adjusting his jacket collar.

“You didn’t call.” Erik notices how accusing his voice sounds, but he doesn’t care.

Jonas takes a few steps closer. “I’d rather not talk about something this important on the phone.”

Erik sighs and walks towards the door, Jonas follows him. After hanging his coat on the coat rack, Erik turns around. “Are you coming here to break up with me?”

The fact that Jonas doesn’t seem surprised is saying a lot. Erik’s throat goes dry. It crossed his mind yesterday, thinking he should start bracing himself. He knows Jonas so well, like the back of his hand. He knows Jonas would feel bad about their distance and would probably think what they have isn’t worth the pain. So Erik should prepare himself for the worst. But the truth is he’s not more ready for it now than he was yesterday.

“Am I holding you back?” Instead of replying, Jonas asks, sounding as if he’s frightened to hear the answer.

Erik does not see that coming. “Jonas…”

“Is it selfish of me to keep holding you back?” Jonas asks again, before answering his own question, “Yeah, it is. I really wanted this to work that sometimes I forgot how hard it must be for you at times. I’m being extremely selfish.”

“Jonas, I wanted this, too,” Erik reminds him.

Jonas looks at him; Erik can see the pain in his eyes. “I should have let you go,” he murmurs. “So many times before. But I couldn’t.”

Erik steps forward and clutches his arms with both hands. “Then don’t.”

Silence envelopes them for a while. “It would be selfish of me,” Jonas says, holding his gaze.

“That makes the two of us.”

They move at the same time, almost in a perfect unison. Erik wraps his arms around Jonas’ shoulders, whilst Jonas is burying his face in the crook of Erik’s neck.

“I really love you.” It comes out as a muffled sound against his neck, but Erik smiles nevertheless.

 _To answer your question, Gerhard, yes it’s all worth it._ Gerhard might still argue that he deserves better than a person who is miles and miles away, like how he put it then. But Erik wants that person. And he’s here now.

It’s not going to get easier from here, and there will be more times where Erik will feel like absolute hell when Jonas isn’t there. And it won’t be fair.

But Erik loves him that much.

“I love you, too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt is: "Hey, I'm with you, okay. Always."
> 
> I hope you enjoyed ~~this mess~~ it anyway.


End file.
